


Just Leave Your Hair A Mess

by genee



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-05
Updated: 2004-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 02:37:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/119858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>You're my religion, you're my church, you're the holy grail at the end of my search</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Leave Your Hair A Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 100 Ways Challenge, with many thanks to the challenge hosts. Borrowed bits throughout, including the title, from Sting's _Sacred Love_.

JC's wearing sandals all the time again, flip-flops and leather slides and pretty, strappy things, and Lance isn't sure why but he sure as hell doesn't mind, because sandals mean JC's feet are always bare and JC has fucking beautiful feet. And yes, Lance knows it's not exactly normal, but it's not, like, weird, or anything. Not a kink, really. Unless it's a JC kink, because JC is beautiful all over, and Lance knows he's maybe spending a little too much time thinking about that lately, but really, he's sure he's not the only one.

JC likes to kick his sandals off and stretch until his bare feet are resting in Lance's lap, which means Lance's hands fall away from whatever they've been doing, because he can't not touch. Especially when JC just _looks_ at him, like he's seeing something Lance hasn't noticed in the mirror yet, and Lance wonders if it's all related somehow, a connection he can't quite make real. It's just that JC seems so much more like himself lately; he looks different maybe, softer, but his eyes are always clear now, salt-water blue and stunning, and he smiles so easy, like he doesn't care who sees.

Like last week, after Lance had worked a combination of pressure points on JC's feet and managed to clear his sinuses enough to keep him breathing for the show, JC had bounced up and hugged him tight, smiling the whole time. "You're amazing, cat," he'd said, and then he kissed Lance, just the barest press of warm lips on his, so sweet, before he pulled away. "Amazing. You know that, right?"

Lance had rolled his eyes then, blushing, and said he'd been studying reflexology a little. He knows he's been glowing ever since, though. He feels it inside, warm and tingly all over, and he isn't sure why but yes, it's pretty amazing.

Sometimes, when they're just sitting around watching tv or something, JC slips behind him on the couch and wraps his legs around Lance's waist so they're both sitting cross-legged, and JC's feet tuck right into the warm insides of Lance's thighs, and all Lance can do is lean back and let his head fall on JC's shoulder and just try to keep breathing. It's so intimate, sitting like this, close enough to feel JC's heartbeat against his ribs, and it's hard to remember they're just friends. Lance tries to remind himself, he does, but it feels so good, and it's so easy, and sometimes Lance just wants to forget.

Like now, both of them squeezed together even though there's plenty of room to spread out, the other guys in Chris's room, the faint sounds of an xbox marathon drifting through the suite. Lance can feel JC's dick pressed against the small of his back, and JC's fingers are drifting up and down his arms, and it just feels so fucking _right_. He thinks maybe he should make some excuse to get up now, pretend he has work to do or something, but he doesn't. He just rubs his knuckles along the arches of JC's feet, and JC shifts a little closer, purring against Lance's throat.

"Nice," JC breathes, so sexy, and Lance closes his eyes and _prays_. It's just, JC's always so responsive, so there and so completely unselfconscious about it, it's half the reason Lance can't stop even though he thinks he probably should. Because what if JC doesn't want this? Or only wants this, just a foot massage and not anything else, not what Lance wants at all. Because Lance wants more than this, wants JC's hands on him, and JC's mouth, hot and wet, and he's so hard from just thinking about it, from just doing this and thinking about it, he's surprised he doesn't come in his pants when JC sighs, warm breath swirling in his ear, and mumbles, "Mmm, feels good, cat."

"You, too." Lance blushes, his thumbs circling the hollows below JC's ankle bones, rubbing sort of back and up, soft gentle pressure. There's supposed to be a spot here, a prostate pressure point, and he'd really like to find it. He tried this on himself once, and it was nice, sort of relaxing, but he knows he's not as sensitive as JC. Still, he's not entirely sure he's found it until he feels JC squirm behind him, and yeah, that's how he knows. Lance bites his lip, wonders if he should feel guilty, and then JC gasps, a surprised little _oh!_ that sends chillbumps racing over Lance's skin, and he decides there's nothing to feel guilty about at all.

"Dude, what is that?" JC's voice is all breathy now, his body starting to twist around Lance's, like he'd get closer if he could.

Lance isn't sure how to answer, or if he should, so he just _hmms_ and slides his thumbs a little higher, right up close to the bone.

"Lance," JC says, his lips brushing Lance's jaw, his tongue flashing out, tasting, and Lance feels all shimmery inside, bright and glowy, like JC. "Like that, man. God, don't stop."

Lance doesn't, and JC's hands slide down his arms, hot over his shivery skin. Lance keeps rubbing in slow circles right there, straying occasionally to knuckle across JC's arches again, teasing a little, loving the feel of JC's feet in his hands, tender and warm and so, so sensitive.

"JC?" Lance asks, soft, because JC's making these sounds now, sweet and needy when Lance presses harder, pulses his thumb against that pressure point. "Jayce?" and JC moans so pretty that all Lance wants to do is lay him down and slick him up and massage JC's prostate for real, see what kind of sounds he makes with Lance's fingers sliding deep inside.

For a second Lance thinks maybe he said that out loud, because JC tenses behind him, clutches Lance hard and fucking _growls_. Lance feels JC's teeth in the soft skin at the base of his neck, the vibration of JC's voice, the wet heat of JC's mouth, and god _damn_ JC is gorgeous like this. Damp curls clinging to his face, to Lance's throat, the feel of him, the way he _smells_ , sweet and almondy when Lance's thumbs slide across his skin, once more around his ankles and JC just fucking _comes_.

"Fuuuuck," JC breathes, licking across the grooves he left in Lance's skin, doing something impossible with his hips, something twisty, and suddenly he's settling in Lance's lap, smiling, running his hands over Lance's chest and kissing him all slow and lazy. "That was, like, amazing, cat. Shit. You just. Whoa."

Lance smiles, ducks his head. "Yeah," he says, and then JC bites his lower lip and slides his hand down Lance's belly and into his pants and Lance just kisses his way into JC's mouth and tangles his fingers in JC's hair and hopes he doesn't pass out. It's too much, JC's tongue in his mouth, the glide of his hand, the way his feet just tuck behind Lance's hips like they belong there now. Lance closes his eyes, and JC's scent floods through him, so sexy, honeyed-heat and, fuck, _desire_.

JC's mumbling something against Lance's lips, just sound, JC's voice, and Lance is thrusting before he even means too, coming in hot spurts all over JC's hand, his clothes, everywhere. When Lance opens his eyes again JC still looks a little dazed, shiny and beautiful and Lance can almost make words now, can almost catch his breath. "Jesus, Jayce," he says, finally, smiling into those blue, blue eyes. "You're amazing."

"Dude, no _way_." JC's eyes are huge and he shakes his head a little, like he doesn't believe it, either. "I just saw stars from you touching my fucking feet. You rock, man."

Lance grins, he can't help it. "No shit?"

"No shit, dude. Stars. Constellations, even."

"Cool," Lance says. "Whatcha gonna look for next time?"

JC's cheeks flush pretty and pale pink. "Just you," he says, and Lance swallows hard, feels like he's seeing stars, too. He's sated and sticky and too happy to move, his fingers twisted through JC's hair and JC's warm body wrapped all around him.

Lance wakes up all tangled in JC, his lips pressed to JC's shoulder, salty and still a little sweet. "Amazing," he whispers into JC's skin, smiling, because he isn't sure, but he thinks he actually fell asleep kissing JC goodnight. To make up for it, he kisses JC good morning without waking him up, and slides out of bed smooth and quiet. He has an early interview today, just him and Joey, and he definitely needs a shower before he goes.

Lance can't stop smiling when he finally sees JC at the venue, flowered sandals and bitten lips and his curls all in a mess; and JC's smiling, too, smiling like sunshine, his eyes all crinkled up against the clouds.

"Lookin' good," JC says, scrubbing his fingers through Lance's gelled-up hair, loosening the spikes. Lance closes his eyes and tries not to press into the touch. "You have a nice morning, cat?"

Lance nods, looking around a little, taking it all in again. "The interview part was kinda boring, but the waking up with you part was really kinda nice."

"Life is good, man," JC says, trailing his fingers down Lance's neck, tracing the shape of his teeth and the outline of his mouth on Lance's sun-warm skin. "Life is definitely good."

"Yeah," Lance agrees. "It really, really is."

Later, when JC slides his bare feet across Lance's lap, all stretched out in the quiet room before the show, Lance knows he's blushing but it doesn't stop him from running his knuckles up and down JC's arches. JC closes his eyes and relaxes into the touch, and Lance shifts a little, trying to adjust himself, because he's just amazing like this, and because really, JC has fucking beautiful feet.   
   
   


\-- End --


End file.
